I have crushed my dreams and turned them into a life
I have held the broken pieces of your life in these frail hands
I have ground the shards to bluntness, ground them some more
In order to live, love and protect myself.
If ever I’m inattentive to you, broken
And reduced to pieces,
I know you will pick up the shards
Even though they cut your hands and give you pain.

The wife draws the blanket, that one a chill,
A plague on the plight of sharing a husband.
A rare time, an odd chance, have it or not,
A couple of turns a month is meaningless.
I try for the sticky rice, but it’s always stale,
I work for hire: Hired, I receive no pay.
Surely had I known life would be like this,
I’d have stayed single and be done with it.